


The Only Lonely Curtain

by Joanne_Lupin



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Break Up, Car Accidents, Connor gets fucked up, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Homophobia, Hospitals, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Kevin Price is a workaholic, M/M, Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, Moving In Together, Panic Attacks, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Steve Blade is the worst, Wedding Fluff, also pls ask me about my OC's, anyways here are more tags, help me, idk this fic got out of hand guys, nurse!Arnold, nurse!Kevin, photographer!Naba, sorry for keeping the Arnaba off to the side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7395661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Somehow I know</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I can't be on this planet alone</em>
</p><p>or</p><p>“Geez, Kev, you look like you got run over with a truck.”</p><p>“That’s an interesting choice of phrase."</p><p>“Why d’you say that?”</p><p>“Because my soul mate got run over by three cars last night.”</p><p>“<em>WHAT?!</em>”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Lonely Curtain

**Author's Note:**

> oh geez y'all
> 
> 1) As will soon become abundantly clear, I know next to nothing about medicine. The medical shit in this fic probably reads like a super poorly-researched episode of House or smth. I'm sorry to any offended medical professionals. I will probably not change anything.
> 
> 2) For this AU, soul marks started appearing in, like, Kev and Con's great-grandparents' generation. People generally understand what the deal is, but there's still things they don't know about the "rules" of soul marks. Since the soul marks started appearing, society in general has accepted homosexuality as one of many norms. However, some fundamentalist sects still believe antiquated things because there will always be stupid people in the world.
> 
> 3) If you don't want to read the sex scene, I've marked the surrounding "-o0o-" thingies in **bold**. A summary for if you skip it: Kev's nervous, Con talks him through it, they have fun.
> 
> 4) The title is from "A Million Years" by Charlene Kaye. It's, like, the perfect soulmate!au song.
> 
> 5) emotional-heathen is, as always, keeping me company in Spooky Mormon Hell.

For Connor McKinley, “Kevin” is an abstract idea. This hypothetical man with impossibly neat handwriting is promised to exist, somewhere, but he isn’t _real._ Not the way Steve Blade is real.

Sometimes, when he’s alone, Connor stares at the letters on his left wrist and tries to will them into them to taking a new form. His parents had told him it was possible, although they’d wanted his mark to become a more feminine name. 

“Are you saying Heavenly Father made a mistake?” he’d asked his mother once.

She had glared at him sternly. “Heavenly Father doesn’t make mistakes, Connor. But He has told us that man should not lie with man.” Then she had become gentle. “Your mark is a test. You must not be tempted, Connor. If you follow Heavenly Father, and if your will is strong enough, your mark can change. You must follow the right path.”

At twenty-four, Connor doesn’t believe most of what his parents had told him. But he still thinks his mark must be a mistake.

Steve has Connor’s name on the back of his left hand. The handwriting is different, but Connor has been practicing, and when he concentrates, his signature is now almost similar to the one etched into Steve’s skin.

They’d met in college, right after Connor’s mission. (Gary, Indiana. Dreadfully boring.) Steve sat next to Connor in the class they’d had together, and when Connor signed the attendance sheet, he’d seen Steve compare the writing on the paper to the mark on his hand. Connor had given him a sad smile and shown him the name on his wrist. 

“Shame,” Steve whispered to him. “You’re really cute.”

“I could say the same to you,” Connor replied, blushing furiously.

They got smoothies together after class. And after the rest of their classes together that semester. They’ve been dating for nearly three years. 

Logic tells Connor they’re not soul mates. But he can’t imagine anything better than what he has with Steve. No one has ever made him feel the way Steve makes him feel.

 _Made_ him feel. 

That night, Connor comes home to find half the things in their apartment packed in boxes. Steve tells him about the new guy he’d met at work that morning. He can’t keep the smile from his face, even as he breaks Connor’s heart. Finally, he shows Connor a slip of paper, holding it with his right hand so he can compare it to the mark on his left.

It’s an exact match.

-o0o-

Some people never get their soul mark. Kevin Price is not one of these people, but for many years, he pretended that he was. 

The name that had manifested in curly, flowing script just above his hipbone was a boy’s name. As a teenager, Kevin had fought— and won— to hide his mark from everyone, even his parents. _Especially_ his parents. 

It was better that way, he thought. Just because you don’t have a soul mark doesn’t mean you’ll never get married or have children. It might be a bit harder, but that hardship, in the eyes of the church, is preferable to having a same-sex soul mate. 

In those days, Kevin would sometimes feel sorry for Connor, whoever he was. Kevin had rejected any desire he’d felt to meet him— had felt _ashamed_ of having Connor’s name on his skin. But he thought it would be a pretty lonely life for Connor, to have a soul mate who couldn’t love you back. 

Oddly enough, Kevin probably thinks less about Connor now than he did back then. He used to be so scared of anyone seeing his mark. Before he was old enough to wear the temple garments, he’d wear an undershirt tucked into his pants, ensuring that an absentminded stretch wouldn’t expose him. He avoided anything that might cause him to reveal his mark. Now, he hardly even notices if his scrubs ride up, exposing tanned skin and black letters. 

“Have you met him yet?” a patient or coworker will sometimes ask.

Kevin will shrug. “No, not yet.”

After years of resigning himself to a soul mate-less future, a happy life with Connor is more than Kevin can let himself hope for. He thinks about meeting Connor the way one might think about winning the lottery; it would certainly be welcome, but imagining it is more of a fun game than it is preparation for an eventuality. Sometimes Kevin feels a pang of loneliness when he sees a matched pair, but with all the work he has to do, he can’t linger on the feeling for too long.

The hospital where Kevin works has a protocol should a doctor or nurse meet their soul mate while treating them. Unless there are extenuating circumstances, the patient will be removed from their soul mate’s care, and the two will be kept apart until the patient is stable. It hasn’t happened often, and not since Kevin started working there, but everyone knows the drill.

Kevin is happy as a nurse. For the second time in his life, (the first being a childhood trip to Orlando, Florida) he feels like he should be where he is. 

 

Kevin had decided to become a nurse after his mission. Ever since he was a child, he’d excelled at everything he’d put his mind to, especially when it came to his religious studies. The praise this brought him, plus the promise of an extravagant afterlife, motivated Kevin through his time at the training center, even when the stories they studied from the scripture made no sense. 

During training, they told him he would be helping people on his mission. He was excited; helping people is one of the noblest things Kevin thought someone could do, and he liked being called noble. But it had turned out that he and the Mormon Church disagree on the meaning of the word “helpful.” 

Not two days after he’d arrived in the small Ugandan village where he’d been stationed, a crazed warlord had descended upon the town, firing at anyone in his sights. All he and his fellow missionaries could do was pray over the dying, bloody bodies of the villagers. It had struck Kevin that he was more prepared to help these people die than he was to bring them back to life. 

Witnessing something that terrible made Kevin care much less about personal glory or eternal happiness. He couldn’t bring these people back to life with the smiley faces he’d gotten on his essays; stories of an unverifiable paradise planet couldn’t seal these people’s wounds.

He’d demanded to leave soon after that. His parents were pissed, to put it lightly. They granted him his college fund, but no more. Kevin was lucky enough to get a scholarship, but he knew he couldn’t afford to support himself through the years of training it takes to become a doctor, so nursing it was. It suits Kevin just fine, anyway. He knows enough to be able to help people, and that’s what matters. (It doesn’t hurt imagining his parents’ conniption fit at the thought of their son as a male nurse, either.) 

In college, Kevin had met his best friend, Arnold Cunningham, and his soul mate, Nabulungi Hatimbi. Arnold was his appointed “study buddy” in school. As it turned out, he was also an ex-missionary, and he’d been stationed in a village just north of the one where Kevin had been. 

“My mission companion was… Pardon my French, but he was kind of a jerk,” Arnold told him. “He meant well, but he wanted all the glory for himself. He threw a hissy fit when the people in the village liked my stories better than the Mormon ones. Up and left me there after just a few days.”

Kevin had chuckled. “Sounds kind of like something I’d have done, to be honest.”

“ _You?_ Nah, you’re too nice!”

“You should’ve seen me when I was still with the church. I was kind of a dick.”

Kevin moved in with Arnold and Naba, a beautiful and bubbly woman from the village where Arnold had served, after a semester in student housing. Their schedules are hectic: Naba works a crappy retail job, takes college classes, and has a photography business on the side; Arnold’s hours are mostly afternoons in Pediatrics; and Kevin is usually in the ER at night. But there always seems to be at least one evening a week where they are all awake, alert, and together, and when those evenings come around, Kevin feels less like he’s with friends, and more like he’s with family.

As he prepares for his shift that evening, Kevin spies the mark on his right hip. He hopes Connor, wherever he is, is happy. That would be enough for him.

-o0o-

Kevin lounges by the nurses’ station, sipping coffee and watching Karen, the head nurse, fill out paperwork.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asks him, her tone good-natured.

“You’re the one who tells me to do stuff. Got anything for me?”

“Touché.” 

Just then, they get a call from the ambulance line. Karen answers. 

“You’ve got Karen… Oh, geez… That’s terrible. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll let the rest of the staff know. We’re gonna be in for a long night…”

“What’s up?” Kevin asks.

“Car crash. Three cars involved, plus one pedestrian. He got it really bad. The whole scene’s pretty nasty, apparently.”

“Yikes. Will we have enough people?”

“Just barely. You go down to the ambulance entrance, they’ll need you there when the first one comes in.”

Kevin nods, leaving his coffee on the table and jogging to the entrance. He’s soon joined by Dr. Clark and Adrienne, another nurse. They don’t have to wait long before the ambulance arrives. The guy— the pedestrian, Kevin guesses, since he’d be most likely to arrive first— is in terrible shape. There’s blood everywhere, his bones are breaking the skin, and though he seems mostly out of it, Kevin thinks he can hear him whimper. Kevin catches a bit of the paramedic’s debrief as they wheel the man into a room.

“—Had a BAC of .18, which obviously doesn’t help things—” 

Kevin winces. Alcohol consumption increases blood flow, which in this case only serves to help the patient bleed out quicker. And they’ll have to be extra worried about infection. Not to mention all the medications they’ll have to rule out until the alcohol wears off. 

Kevin reaches for the man’s left arm to take his pulse. As his fingers find the faint, slow beat, he catches sight of the letters on his wrist. Kevin forgets to count.

That’s his name. His handwriting. Blood rolls down the man’s arm— _Connor’s arm?_ — and Kevin wipes it away from the letters. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of his right hip. 

“Kevin!” Adrienne shouts. “Where’d you go, buddy?”

“Sorry. He, um. His pulse is weak. And slow.”

“Yeah, no shit; we’ve got him on a monitor.” 

“Sorry.” Kevin shakes his head. “Did you catch the patient’s name?”

“Connor Mc…something.”

“Connor,” Kevin repeats automatically. It’s him. It’s got to be him. “Oh my God.”

“What? What is—” Adrienne catches sight of Connor’s wrist, where Kevin is still grasping it. “ _Oh._ ”

Kevin shakes his head again, furiously, trying to clear it. “What can I do? He needs stitches, right? Transfusions? We can’t get him into surgery for the broken bones until his BAC goes down, but we can—”

Adrienne pulls Kevin off to the side as Dr. Clark examines Connor.

“Kevin. You can’t be here. If he’s your soul mate, you need to go help another patient. Or maybe sit the night out. You’re compromised.”

“No! I don’t even know him. It’s just like any other patient.” Kevin’s eyes are fixed on Connor’s battered body. His breathing is coming more quickly than he would like, and he can feel his heart beating loudly in his chest. He doesn’t feel this way about seeing people wounded anymore. He doesn’t get this panicked. 

“Kevin…”

He closes his eyes and steadies himself. “We need all the people we can get right now. And we don’t have much time to waste. I’m here. Let me help.”

“…Fine. But I’m invited to the wedding.”

“What—? Oh.”

Kevin files that away for later. This is just another patient. Granted, one that has his name carved into his skin, but he needs him, regardless.

-o0o-

Connor came into the hospital at around midnight. They decide to wait an hour before surgery so that his BAC can go down— he won’t metabolize too much alcohol during that time, but with as much blood as he’s lost, a lot of it’s been flushed out of his system, and waiting too long increases the risk of infection. That hour is tense and restless. They have to monitor his vitals carefully to make sure he has enough blood. His eyelids flutter occasionally, but he never seems to fully regain consciousness, for which Kevin is grateful. There’s not much they can give him for the pain at this point, so the less Connor is aware of, the better.

Connor’s emergency contact arrives during this time. Adrienne questions him for Connor’s file and returns with a teasing smirk that Kevin knows does not bode well for him.

“That was a Mr. Steve Blade. Connor’s ex.”

Kevin has so many questions. “Ex?” is what he asks.

“Three year relationship. They broke up, like, today. They weren’t soul mates. Obviously. Seems like Connor here took it pretty hard, even though— I mean, he had to have _known,_ right?”

“I guess…” Kevin feels a little sick. He decides he doesn’t care much for Steve Blade. “What’s he like?”

“Looks a lot like you, weirdly enough.” She squints at him. “You’re a bit taller, though. So that’s probably good.”

 _Good,_ Kevin thinks smugly.

Kevin somehow manages to sneak his way onto the team for Connor’s surgery. His hands shake, and he tells himself it’s because his shift had started at six in the evening, and not because he is, as Adrienne had put it, _compromised._ Either way, as long as he’s not shaking so much that he can’t wipe Dr. Murphy’s brow, he’s fine. (Dr. Murphy doesn’t sweat much, anyway. She’s kind of a goddess.)

It’s a rough surgery. Connor has _multiple_ open fractures, plus several smaller breaks that need to be looked at. Kevin’s shift ends at some point during the surgery, but no one comes to get him and he’s not about to bring it up. In all, the surgery takes a little over eight hours.

Kevin knows he should stay behind to help sterilize the instruments, but the other nurses send him off, telling him to get some rest.

It’s about ten in the morning when Kevin finally finds Connor asleep and recovering in his room. He sinks down into the chair by his bed and lays his head by Connor’s left arm, ducking under the IV lines. In seconds, he’s fallen into a fitful sleep.

-o0o-

Connor hurts everywhere. His head throbs. His ears ring. His limbs ache down to the bone. When he opens his eyes, the light nearly blinds him. He groans.

He feels the movement by his left side before he sees its source. He knows this man. He can’t believe he’d be here.

“Steve?” he croaks.

The man’s facial features come into sharper focus, and Connor realizes they’re not quite right. Not quite Steve. Not-Steve winces.

“Nope. I’m a nurse… I’ll need to check up on you, I guess.” He says the last sentence more to himself, as if he’s surprised by his duty. He glances down at his chest and quickly removes his ID badge, slipping it into his front pocket. Connor is too confused and in too much pain to contemplate the action.

“What happened? How’d I get here?” Connor asks. He remembers talking to Steve, remembers the boxes, remembers fleeing to a bar down the road. Partway through the bar is where his memory stops. He assumes, with the nurse and all, that he’s at a hospital. He takes in the thick casts on his right arm and leg, suspended at an odd angle from the ceiling, and the brace on his left ankle. 

“You got really drunk last night,” the nurse explains as he walks over to scribble in Connor’s chart. “You happened to step into oncoming traffic just in time to be hit by three cars at once. Broke a lot of bones, especially on your right side. Lost a lot of blood, too. You had one hell of a night, Mr. McKinley.”

“Geez…”

“I know, right? You’re… You’re pretty lucky to be alive.” The nurse winces again, studying him intensely. 

“Did a— did anyone come to see me?”

“Yeah. Your, uh, emergency contact. You weren’t in any shape for visitors, so we had him answer some questions and sent him home.” Not-Steve flips through his chart. “Can you verify some of his answers for me?”

“Sure.” He and Steve had been living together for almost two years. They never kept secrets from each other. He’d have known the answers to any questions they’d had. His stomach twists painfully.

“Um, Connor?”

“Sorry. What?” Connor takes a steadying breath.

Not-Steve clears his throat. “I was asking you if you drink alcohol very often.”

“No. I hardly drink at all. And if I do, it’s just, y’know, a glass of wine. To be fancy.” Connor’s mouth twitches into some semblance of a smile, and the nurse smiles back. It’s a good look on him, which Connor thinks is a weird thing to be thinking after all that’s happened.

“Do you smoke? Do any drugs?”

“No and no. Does anyone fall for that?”

“Fall for what?”

“I mean, who would tell a doctor they do drugs?”

The nurse shrugs. “We’re not narcs. We don’t care what you’ve done, as long as we know you’ve done it. We don’t want to, say, give someone who’s done a bunch of heroin a bunch of morphine.”

“Probably not good,” Connor agrees. He tries to chuckle, but it comes out as a cough. The nurse starts.

“Do you need anything? Water, perhaps?”

“That would be excellent, actually…” His mouth tastes like a desert.

The nurse helps him shift the bed into a more suitable position for drinking water. Connor winces at the movement, and the nurse shows him the button for the morphine drip.

“We’ve got you on the good stuff,” the nurse says, holding the cup to Connor’s lips. 

“Thanks, I guess,” Connor replies when he’s finished with the water. He feels a bit better, although that might have something to do with the morphine.

“No problem.” Not-Steve returns to the chart. “So, are you on any medications?”

“Nope.”

“Any allergies?”

“Nope.”

“Pre-existing conditions?”

“None.”

“Okay… I think that’s everything. Dr. Murphy will want to follow up with you at some point, but I think you should rest now.” The nurse yawns on the last word, his arms contorting above his head in an almost catlike way, making his top hitch up. 

The black letters on the nurse’s hip catch Connor’s eye. He forgets to breathe. The letters look so familiar, like an old poster he’d taken from his wall years ago. And they look like they spell his name.

The nurse’s arms are back down way too soon. He sees where Connor’s eyes are fixed and blanches.

“ _Shit._ I’m so sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that. It’s— you’ve been through a lot, I thought this might be too much of a shock…”

“You’re my soul mate. You’re Kevin.” 

Kevin nods slowly. “…I am.” 

The universe is a weird, messed-up place. Because Connor’s soul mate is nearly the spitting image of his ex-boyfriend, over whom he’d gotten drunk just last night, which caused him to walk into oncoming traffic, landing him in the middle of a terrible accident that placed him in the care of none other than this soul mate who looks like his ex-boyfriend. 

Connor frowns at him. “Are you allowed to take care of me? Considering…?”

“Technically, no.” Kevin grins sheepishly. “Especially since my shift ended hours ago.”

“Wait… How long have you been here?”

“Well, my shift started at six, but I usually come a little earlier. They like us to be punctual.” Kevin yawns again, and Connor gets another glimpse of his name on Kevin’s hip.

“Six in the morning?” Connor makes a face. He’s never been a morning person.

Kevin actually laughs. “No— could you _imagine_? I meant six yesterday evening.”

“Kevin!” Connor gasps. “Have you slept?”

“A little…” Kevin looks like a child who’s been scolded. 

“Define ‘a little,’” Connor demands.

Kevin glances at his watch. “Um… Maybe twenty minutes?”

“ _Kevin!_ ”

Kevin sits in the chair by his bed. “I hate to play this card, but I think if anyone is gonna be the ‘concerned soul mate’ right now, it’s me.”

Kevin is grinning, but the remark makes Connor grimace. 

“Ugh, you’re right… I’m sorry. This probably didn’t go how you imagined it would…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Kevin says immediately. “What happened is what happened. The important thing now is that you’re alive.” Tentatively, he reaches out. Connor nods. Kevin takes his hand, giving it the lightest squeeze. The gesture is incredibly comforting. He smiles. Kevin smiles back.

Kevin yawns again. His entire body is drooping.

“You need to get to a real bed,” Connor tells him sternly. “And that’s not about me being a ‘concerned soul mate,’ that’s about the next person you have to inject with something.”

“I don’t wanna go,” Kevin says. 

“I’ll be here when you wake up. It’s not like I can really go anywhere…”

“ _Connorrrr…_ ” Kevin whines, gripping his hand a little tighter. Connor laughs. 

“You need to sleep.” He looks at the bed. He thinks there might be enough room for them both if he scoots over. “Can you help me move? You can sleep here if you want.”

Kevin obliges, stretching when he stands up and allowing Connor an even closer glimpse of his mark. It’s written in the curly script he’d used before he’d met Steve, the one he still uses when he forgets to concentrate on his handwriting. 

Moving is a little painful, but Kevin is a wonderfully warm presence at his side. He doesn’t smell excellent, but Connor probably doesn’t, either, and frankly, they both look like crap. Not the most romantic of moments, to be sure, but in the easy comfort of Kevin’s arms, he thinks he might be able to understand why Steve Blade wasn’t actually his soul mate.

-o0o-

Falling asleep next to Connor is probably Kevin’s new favorite thing. For the third time in his life, Kevin feels like he should be where he is. 

He’s woken up by movement from underneath him, and it takes him a moment to realize what’s going on.

Dr. Murphy is standing at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed, the hint of an amused smile on her lips. Her residents stand behind her, all whispering and giggling. 

Oh, no.

“I can explain,” Kevin blurts, getting up slowly so as not to jostle Connor too much.

“Oh, please do,” says Dr. Murphy.

“He’s my soul mate. We found out last night. Well, _I_ did. He was pretty out of it. Obviously.” Kevin sways when he gets himself off Connor’s bed and onto the floor. He grips the side railing for support. His watch says it’s a quarter past noon. 

Connor is snickering at him. Kevin swats him, deliberately missing.

“Did you know this when you assisted me with Mr. McKinley’s surgery last night?” Dr. Murphy asks, her plum-stained lips pressing together.

“Well, uh, yes. I did. But I was only on forehead duty! And the surgery went fine, didn’t it?”

“That is exactly what I am trying to ascertain,” Dr. Murphy replies. “Why don’t you go get some rest while I meet with Mr. McKinley?”

Kevin glances at Connor, hoping for backup, but Connor nods. “You should go. I’ll be fine.”

“ _Fine,_ ” Kevin grumbles. He pauses awkwardly for a moment, then grabs his notepad from his pocket. He scribbles some numbers on a sheet, tears it out, and sets it on the table by Connor’s bed. “That’s my pager and my cell number. I’ll have both on. Use either of them if you need me, okay?”

Connor smiles. “You’re adorable. Now, go.”

Kevin steals one last look at Connor before he leaves. He makes his way to his locker and checks his phone.

“Shit.”

Naba and Arnold (mostly Arnold) had blown up his notifications. He has missed calls, texts, even Facebook messages, all asking him where he was. Staying at the hospital isn’t unusual for Kevin, but not letting his roommates know is. He calls Arnold.

“Buddy! What happened to you? You disappeared off the face of the earth! The computer said you’d clocked out, but Karen said she hadn’t seen you leave!”

“I’ll explain. Are you at the hospital?”

“Yeah. I’m eating lunch.”

“Great. I— wow, I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

“Kevin!”

“I’ll explain! Text Naba and tell her I’m alive and well. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay. See ya!”

“Bye, Arnold.”

Kevin makes his way to the cafeteria and stacks his plate with as much food as possible; now that he’s in the presence of food, he’s realized just how hungry he is.

“Geez, Kev, you look like you got run over with a truck.”

“That’s an interesting choice of phrase,” Kevin says, nearly giddy, as he unwraps a sandwich.

“Why d’you say that?”

“Because my soul mate got run over by three cars last night.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

“Hold on, we should get Naba on speaker; I don’t want you telling her this story. She needs to hear it from me.” 

When they get Nabulungi on the line, Kevin tells them the whole story, even including being interrupted by Dr. Murphy. He talks through mouthfuls of food, and Arnold occasionally has to translate his garbled phrases for Naba. 

“…And then I came here. And when I’m done eating, I’ll probably go back to Connor’s room,” he finishes. He takes a long swig of chocolate milk.

“Your soul mate is smart. You get some rest. Go sleep in the on call room,” Naba says. Arnold nods.

“But Connor—”

“Will be there when you wake up,” Naba interrupts.

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him while you’re sleeping,” Arnold says. “But you won’t do him any good if you keep going like this.”

“My soul mate almost died last night before I had the chance to properly meet him,” Kevin snaps. “So I’m _sorry_ if I’m reluctant to let him go again, but I think that’s a perfectly reasonable response, here.”

The words are out before he can even think them, and when he realizes what he said, it finally hits Kevin how much he’d _wanted_ this— and how close he’d been to losing it. (The hunger and exhaustion aren’t doing him any favors, either.) He can’t help it; he starts to cry.

“Woah, hey. Kevin, it’s okay.” Arnold pats Kevin’s shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. But if this proves anything, it’s that you really, really need a nap. Go talk to him for a little bit if it’ll make you feel better, but then go right to sleep. I promise I’ll let you know if anything comes _close_ to happening.”

Kevin sniffles and nods. He wipes his eyes roughly. “Fine. I’m gonna go. Can you take my tray up?”

“Yeah, but only this once,” Arnold says, grinning.

“Bye, Kevin!” Naba calls.

“Bye, Naba.”

“See ya, buddy!”

“See ya.”

Kevin takes a quick shower and changes into his spare scrubs before he visits Connor. The warm water clears the redness from his eyes and makes him feel a little more human. On his way to Connor’s room, he stops at the gift shop. If Kevin can’t be there himself, he thinks Connor should at least have a little something to remember him by.

-o0o-

Connor’s hospital room is lonely without Kevin. The room itself is actually a double, but there’s no one in the other bed, so he’s all by himself. The meeting with Dr. Murphy made it sound like he’d be here for a while. Connor’s not looking forward to that.

Though he’s not incredibly tired, Connor closes his eyes, willing himself to sleep. He’s roused by a light tap at the doorframe.

“Hey,” Kevin says quietly. One hand is tucked behind his back.

“You should be sleeping,” Connor chides, but he smiles, happy to see Kevin.

“I will, don’t worry,” Kevin says, coming to stand at his bedside. “I just wanted to check on you first.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be here a while and it’ll be a rough road, but I’ll live.”

“Good. I got you something.”

“Oooh, what is it?” Connor grins.

Kevin reveals what he’d been hiding behind his back: two stuffed animals, one obviously brand new, and one old and tattered. He takes the new one in his other hand and offers Connor the old one. Connor takes it, moving his arm gingerly, and gives him a questioning look.

“It’s a Winnie the Pooh bear. You almost can’t tell, cuz he’s so old, but… yeah. I keep him at the hospital for when I need to nap in the on call room. He helps me sleep. I know it’s kinda dumb, since I’m, like, an adult with a job and everything, but…” Kevin trails off, blushing.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Connor tucks the bear snugly under his arm. “What’s that one for, then?”

“Oh. Well, now I don’t have a stuffed animal to sleep with, now do I?” Kevin says. He brandishes the stuffed dog. “He needs a name.”

“How about… Raoul?” 

“Raoul?”

“Like from ‘Phantom of the Opera.’ It’s one of my favorite musicals.”

Kevin smiles, nodding. “Raoul it is!”

Connor chuckles, squeezing the bear in his arm. It really does make him feel a little better. “Now, sleep.”

“I’m _gonna_! Geez.” Kevin hugs Raoul to his chest. He watches Connor for a moment. He looks like he wants to say something. Instead, he reaches out a tender hand and brushes Connor’s hair off his forehead.

Connor sighs happily. “C’mere,” he murmurs. Kevin bends down, getting closer. Connor cups his hand around Kevin’s face and pulls him in for a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. 

When Kevin stands back up, his eyes are huge. His fingers brush the spot where Connor’s lips touched his skin. His lips curve upward. 

“Now _go,_ ” Connor tells him. Kevin nods and turns to leave. He glances back at Connor once more before he exits the room. 

Connor holds Kevin’s bear close to his chest. The room is a little less lonely now.

-o0o-

A few hours later, Connor is dozing, half-watching some terrible afternoon talk show, when a nurse enters the room. She has frizzy, black hair and a piercing, olive-green gaze that is trained on the bear in his left arm. Her lip quirks up.

“Hey, there, Mr. McKinley. Is it cool if I call you Connor?” she asks. Connor nods. “Awesome. I’m Adrienne. I’m gonna check up on you. Also, you have a visitor. We’re keeping him in the waiting room right now, but if you’re cool with it, we can let him in after I clear you.”

Connor’s brow furrows. “Who’s visiting me?”

“It’s your, um, emergency contact,” she says with a hint of a smirk.

“Oh. Uh. I should probably talk to him.”

“Your call, man.” She checks some things on the monitors. “D’you need anything? You hungry? Kevin gave me some money to get you the decent stuff from the cafeteria. Or juice or soda or something.”

Connor frowns. “Is he still awake?” he asks sharply.

“Nah, dude. Saw him on the way in.” Adrienne grins playfully. “Are you getting on his ass about not sleeping already? Good. He needs that.”

“He does this a lot?” 

“I mean, he’s not usually _this_ bad about it, but it’s not every day you meet your soul mate, is it?” Adrienne studies Connor again. Her gaze makes Connor feel like he’s under a microscope. “Listen, man. Kevin’s never gonna say any of this, but I will. You need to sort out whatever shit you have with this Steve guy, and fast, because Kev needs you. He says he doesn’t, but… He’s _always here_. Always _working_. Never goes out with the rest of us, always takes extra shifts, studies in the break room… None of us know him that well, besides Arnold, but he’s a nice guy. He needs someone who cares for him the way he cares for, like, humanity. And it looks like that someone’s gonna have to be you.”

“Uh… Okay?” Connor shifts uncomfortably, wincing at the twinge of pain it brings him.

“Just so we’re on the same page. More morphine?” 

“It’s— I’m okay as long as I don’t move around a lot.”

“You need more. Eating makes you move. They have roast beef today, it’s the best— sound good?” 

“Um, sure.”

“How ‘bout a drink? We’ve got some Coke products in the machine, plus apple juice, orange juice, grape juice, and some flavored water, but I forget what kinds.”

“Uh, grape juice sounds lovely,” Connor says. “I, uh. My wallet was in my pants, I can pay—”

“Dude, no. You haven’t seen your bill yet,” Adrienne says. “Your soul mate’s got it.”

“Okay…” Connor leans back, closing his eyes. He doesn’t even want to start to think about how he’s going to pay for all this. “I guess Steve should come in now…”

“You got it, dude,” Adrienne says. “I’ll be right back.”

Connor’s head is kind of spinning. Everyone is talking about this whole soul mate thing as if it’s an obligation. A responsibility. It’s a lot to spring on him, considering everything that’s happened.

Connor likes Kevin— so far, at least. He’s sweet and thoughtful and careful, and even when he’s sleep-deprived, he’s not too bad on the eyes. (He looks like Steve. But not Steve. He looks different in a way that Connor can’t quite pin down, but that feels very important.) Connor feels like he knows him already, but… well, he doesn’t, does he? He knows very little about who Kevin is, what he likes, where he comes from. Heck, he doesn’t even know his last name! 

Kevin is warm and comforting, and when Connor had kissed him on the cheek, he’d looked like he’d been given the world. Connor thinks it would be easy to fall in love with him. 

What’s holding him back is Steve. Connor can’t imagine how anyone— including Steve himself— could throw out a three-year relationship just because it wasn’t destined to be. He can’t ignore the sleepless nights he’d spent glaring at the name on his wrist. He can’t ignore the warmth, the comfort, the sweetness; just because it hadn’t come from his soul mate didn’t mean it wasn’t real.

Kevin is real now. He is no longer an abstract concept. And he is already better than he could have ever imagined. 

Steve is real, too. He’ll be here soon. And they’d been in love.

They had been. But Steve was ready to toss it all aside the moment he’d found his soul mate. Even now, Connor knows he couldn’t have done that to Steve.

Adrienne comes in, pulling out the little table on his bed and setting down a sandwich wrapped in plastic, a bag of chips, a pudding cup, and a bottle of grape juice. As she hurriedly unwraps the food, Connor’s eyes are fixed on Steve.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” says Adrienne, giving Connor a friendly wave before skipping out.

“I heard you found Kevin,” Steve begins. He stands awkwardly by the end of Connor’s bed.

“Yeah. Funny how these things work,” Connor says, his voice acidic.

“It really is,” Steve says. His voice is so different from Kevin’s. There’s something playful and endearingly childlike about Kevin’s voice, and Connor finds he misses it when Steve speaks.

“Why’d you come?”

Steve shrinks back a little. “I… Well, I… I know it was rough for you, that I found my soul mate. And they told me you were drinking last night. And I thought—”

“Oh. I see. You want me to tell you this wasn’t your fault.” Connor glares at him. “You want me to forgive you and give you my blessing. Is that it?”

“I didn’t— It’s not like— Connor, I still _care_ about you—”

“Sure you do. You cared enough to pack up your things before you dumped me. Made it a clean break. Well, guess what? I’ve got plenty of those.”

“We thought you’d be ready,” Steve mutters.

“Ready? For what?”

“I— Fuck. Never mind.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

Connor stiffens, making himself as threatening as he can be, given the fact that he can hardly move. “Ready for what, Steve?”

“I… We met a month ago. I thought you’d get it. Connor, you and I, we hadn’t been sleeping together, we hardly saw each other, I thought—”

“You piece of shit,” Connor mutters. “I loved you, you know? Didn’t you notice how I changed my handwriting? Did you ever know how hard I wished that my mark would change? I fucking _loved_ you, and you thought the best way to break up with me would be to cheat on me for a month, hoping I’d get the hint, and then lie to me and make me think you’d bail on our relationship a few hours after meeting your soul mate? You pile of human garbage.” Connor is crying, both because he’s upset and because his entire body hurts. He has to lie back against the pillows (he doesn’t know when he’d sat up, straining against the lines that were keeping his limbs immobilized) and close his eyes.

“You met Kevin, though,” Steve says quietly. “That has to count for something.”

“Just because something good came out of the utter shitshow you’ve created doesn’t mean you’re absolved. It was coincidence, or fate, or whatever. But you still suck.”

Connor keeps his eyes closed. There’s a long moment of silence.

“Goodbye, Connor,” Steve finally says. “I wish you the best. I really do.”

“Goodbye, Steve,” Connor spits. When he opens his eyes again, Steve is gone. 

The food sits untouched on Connor’s table. He doesn’t feel very hungry anymore. He presses the button for the morphine drip and hugs the bear tighter to his chest. In spite of himself, he wishes Kevin was here.

-o0o-

Kevin wakes up at a quarter after ten. Someone is snoring in the top bunk. His shift started fifteen minutes ago. He scrambles up, blinking away the head rush. 

“Oh, good! You’re awake! Don’t worry, Karen knows what’s up. You’re fine until midnight.”

Kevin looks over and sees Adrienne lying on her side in another bottom bunk.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Dude. You will not _believe_ what I overheard today.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. Adrienne is always the one to know about the rich old men who come in for heart attacks and suddenly find their wives and their mistresses in the same room. 

“I really don’t care, A. It’s all the same story.”

“No, no! This time it’s about Connor!”

Kevin stares at her. “Connor?”

“Yeah. His ex came by today. While you were sleeping.”

“ _What?!_ ” Kevin cries. The occupant of the top bunk grumbles, but resumes snoring seconds later. Kevin lowers his voice to a whisper-shout. “I asked you guys to tell me if anything happens. This sounds like something that happened.”

“Chill, Kev. Connor’s a big boy. He’s older than you, actually. I saw on his chart. Besides, you _really_ needed that nap. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep that long.” 

“Why is everyone so interested in my sleep schedule all of a sudden?” Kevin pulls on his shoes as he speaks. 

“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that some shit went down in there, and I heard all of it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Kevin stands, fixing Adrienne with a stern look. “If Connor wants me to know what happened, he’ll tell me. You don’t get to make that decision for him.”

Adrienne raises an eyebrow. As Kevin leaves, he hears her mutter, “Damn. I need me a freak like that…”

Connor is sleeping when Kevin reaches his room. He tiptoes in, careful not to make any noise, and sits quietly at Connor’s side.

There’s a nearly empty bottle of grape juice on the table. Kevin hopes Adrienne bought Connor some food like he’d asked. Connor needs to keep up his strength so his body can fight off infections. 

Kevin smiles, feeling a little proud at the sight of his stuffed bear tucked snugly under Connor’s arm. 

He wants to be a good soul mate. The thing is, he’s not sure exactly how to do that. There’s no rulebook, the way there was when he was a missionary; there are no clear instructions, the way there are for nursing. 

It would be terrifying if it weren’t so exciting.

Kevin loves a challenge. He always has, even when he was an arrogant child who thought he could heal the world with a few lines of scripture. Nursing taught him to ask for help when he needs it and let others do what he can’t. But asking for help doesn’t mean you’re backing down from a challenge; it just means you’re using every tool you have available to help you complete it.

This, Kevin thinks, is the ultimate challenge: being the best soul mate Connor could ask for. 

He already knows a few things about Connor. He knows that Connor likes musicals, especially ‘Phantom of the Opera.’ He knows— well, he guesses— Connor drinks grape juice. He knows more than a near stranger should know about Connor’s medical history. He knows Connor had been dating Steve Blade for three years. He knows Connor’s handwriting flows gently from one letter to the next, almost like cursive, but not quite. He knows Connor has his name on his wrist. 

It’s not a lot to go on, but they’ll have a long time to figure out the rest.

Kevin watches Connor as he sleeps. His face is peaceful. The cuts on his face were easily patched up, but the bruises are still swollen and starkly purple against his pale skin. Kevin can see a light spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His hair, Kevin remembers, is soft. In spite of his bruised and battered state, Kevin thinks Connor looks like an angel.

Connor’s eyes flutter open at some point during Kevin’s reverie. He sees Kevin and smiles.

“Of course you’re here. Did you sleep?”

Kevin grins back. “I did. I was out like a light.”

“Good… You know, I was just thinking… I don’t know your last name. You know mine, but I don’t know yours.”

“Price,” Kevin replies.

“Kevin Price,” Connor repeats. Kevin likes the way his name sounds when Connor says it.

“Did you eat something?” Kevin asks. “I asked one of the nurses to get you something good.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that. Adrienne, right? She was nice. Is she your friend?”

Kevin shrugs. “I guess. We were in school together, and she… She really helped me out once. But we don’t see each other outside of the hospital.”

“You wanna tell me about it?” Connor asks curiously.

“I mean… I guess you’ll hear about it eventually. But it’s not that big of a deal…” 

“Why don’t you tell me,” Connor replies decisively. Kevin nods.

“Well, uh, I guess the story kind of starts in Uganda. I was— oh, you’re going to think this is weird. I used to be Mormon.” Kevin winces, waiting for Connor’s response.

He does not expect Connor to laugh. 

“No way! Me, too!”

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious! I was District Coordinator on my mission.”

“Very impressive! Where’d you go?”

“Indiana. It was boring as heck.”

Kevin laughs. “Mine wasn’t. I was in Uganda, but I left only a couple days in.”

“Why was that?”

“There was this warlord terrorizing a bunch of villages in our area. He called himself— this is ridiculous— General Butt-Fucking Naked.”

“No! Why’d he call himself that?”

“Because he liked to get naked and kill people.” Kevin’s face falls, remembering the day the General had stormed into the village.

“Oh, no,” Connor says, his voice suddenly soft. “And you saw—?”

“Yep… It was a bloodbath. And we couldn’t do anything about it, you know? The Book of Mormon doesn’t fix bullet holes. So I left and became a nurse. Figured I could actually help people this way.”

Connor nods. “Geez.”

“Yeah. So fast-forward a couple years. A and I are just starting out as actual nurses. One of my first ER shifts ever. These two guys came in, covered in bullet holes. And I…” Kevin wraps his arms tightly around himself as he remembers. “I kept seeing the people in Uganda. The ones I couldn’t help. And— well, I had a pretty major panic attack.” Kevin meets Connor’s eyes. He’s spurred on by the sympathetic warmth he finds there. “I didn’t want anyone to know about it— not even my best friend, and, I mean, he’d seen me take finals in nursing school, he knows I get panic attacks sometimes. I was super embarrassed. But Adrienne found me hiding in the supply closet and talked me down. And she never told anyone, which… Listen. She’s a wonderful person, but she will tell anyone anything.”

Connor huffs out a laugh. “But… You’re better now?”

“Yeah, pretty much. What A told me that really helped is that you can’t focus too much on who you weren’t able to save, because that’ll keep you from saving the people you’re taking care of now.”

“Huh,” Connor says. A smile spreads across his face. “That’s really incredible, Kevin.”

“I mean, A said it, not me.” Kevin ducks his head, heat rushing to his cheeks. He bites his lip. “How are you doing? With… With everything, I mean. It’s a lot. A told me S—uh, someone came by.”

“Yeah…” Connor’s tone turns bitter. “Hey, if a walking cat turd named Steve Blade ever comes by here again, can you make sure he can’t get in here?”

Kevin giggles. “Sorry. Sure.”

Connor smirks. “You like that? He’s the personification of the end of the ‘Hunger Games’ books. He’s what would happen if you taught a maggot English. He’s like Donald Trump without class.”

Kevin snorts, covering his mouth with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I probably shouldn’t take this much joy in verbally abusing your ex-boyfriend.”

“He deserves it,” Connor mutters darkly. “Cheating bastard.”

“ _What?!_ ” Kevin yelps, leaping up with clenched fists. “What did he do?”

Connor seems shocked by Kevin’s response. “Sit down, Kevin. It’s— You don’t need to get worked up about it. It’ll be okay.”

Kevin sits, but he’s full of aggressive energy. He bounces in his chair. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks.

“I… Yeah, I guess, since we’re telling each other stuff…” Connor sighs, resting his head against the pillow and closing his eyes. Kevin is just about to speak up, to say Connor doesn’t have to talk if he doesn’t want to. But then Connor starts to talk. “See, I thought Steve had just met his soul mate that morning. That’s what he’d told me. And that sucked enough as it was, because it was like, y’know, he didn’t care about me at all now that he’d found _his_ Connor.” He glances at Kevin. “His soul mate is also named Connor, by the way. How messed up is that?”

“Very,” Kevin murmurs.

“Yeah. So. That’s what I’d thought. But then he told me he’d lied. He wasn’t _going_ to tell me. It was an accident. But yeah. Apparently, he’d met his soul mate a _month_ ago.” Kevin clenches his jaw to keep himself from interrupting, but he feels like he’s vibrating. He wants nothing more than to kick Steve Blade square in the balls. “And since then, he’d been distancing himself from me, trying to soften the blow. Spending all his time with _him._ I’d thought, you know, it’s a rough patch. It happens sometimes. And like. I don’t know what I would’ve done in his place. But it certainly wouldn’t have been _that._ ”

Tears roll down Connor’s cheeks. Kevin is up in a heartbeat, the tension in his muscles melting into gentleness as he takes Connor’s hand. 

“What a dick,” Kevin mutters, soft but furious.

Connor takes in a deep breath, squeezing Kevin’s hand back. “Yeah. And you know what the worst part is?”

“What?”

“He thought everything he did would be okay just because I _happened_ to meet you in the process.”

Kevin’s heart sinks a little. “Oh…”

Connor’s eyes widen. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean— Kevin, you’re… you’re already so, so great. But… well, you know how people always say, when you’re going through a hard time, that it’s all _worth it_ so you can… I dunno, become the person you need to be, or whatever? I think that’s a load of bull.”

“You do?”

“Well, yeah. It’s like… When you buy something really expensive, you’re okay with spending the money because you get something nice in return. But you know what would be even better? Is if you got the thing for free.”

Kevin nods. “I think I get you.”

“Yeah? Like, I’m very glad you’re here now. And I guess I understand that there were certain awful things we both have had to go through in our lives to make ourselves the type of people who could be each other’s soul mates. But that stuff still sucked. All I’m saying is, it’s really awesome that I met you out of all of this, but I still have a right to be pissed that my ex is a douchenozzle and I have metal in my limbs, no matter how much good came out of it.”

Kevin grins. “A wordsmith and a philosopher. Interesting…”

“Ha ha. I’ve actually never taken a philosophy class.”

“Are you in school?”

“Yep. Early childhood education major, music minor.”

“That’s so cool! So, you wanna teach music?”

Connor nods. “That’s the plan.”

“Does that mean you like kids?” Kevin asks, blushing when he realizes the implications of the question.

If Connor notices, he doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah. You?”

“I do. I come from a big family. I have four younger siblings and more cousins than I can count.” Kevin smiles sadly, thinking about his brothers and sisters. “I haven’t seen them in a long time. My parents weren’t too thrilled that I rejected the faith.”

Connor squeezes his hand sympathetically. “I know what you mean. My parents were the same. Your soul mark probably didn’t help, either.”

Kevin winces and pulls away, avoiding Connor’s eyes. “Yeah…”

“Kevin?”

“Do you need anything?” Kevin asks suddenly. “More grape juice, maybe? Something to eat?”

“And here I thought this was honesty hour.”

“You know what? I have my laptop in my locker. You’re probably bored. You can stream a movie or something.”

“Later. It’s way too early for us to be keeping secrets from each other. And in light of recent events, I think I’ve had enough secrets for a lifetime.”

Kevin looks Connor in the face. The remark stings, but Kevin knows he’s right. “My parents never knew about my soul mark,” he admits.

“Oh…” Connor visibly relaxes. “That’s it?”

“You’re not upset?”

“Why would I be upset? I know— at least, I have an idea of what growing up was like for you. If my mark were as easy to hide as yours, I’d have done the same.”

Kevin shakes his head. “I was ashamed of my mark for years. When I was a kid, I thought meeting you would be the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“That’s what you felt then,” Connor says comfortingly. “How do you feel now?”

Kevin blushes. “Like I’m luckier than I could ever deserve to be.”

Connor’s face goes redder than Kevin’s. He reaches out, and Kevin takes his hand again. 

“So, um, there you go,” Connor says, clearing his throat and blinking quickly. “You’ve changed. And for everything that I said earlier, I still think change matters a whole lot. Besides, even if I wanted to be mad at you for that, I’d have no right to be.”

“How so?”

“I’d wanted my mark to change while I was with Steve.” Connor’s eyes darken. Kevin never wants to be the one to inspire a look like that in Connor’s eyes. “I wanted us to be soul mates so badly I thought I could change fate.”

Kevin’s stomach twists. He understands, but he can’t help feeling a little hurt.

“How do you feel now?” Kevin asks nervously. 

Connor sighs. “You understand that I can’t get over a three-year relationship in a day. I’m not _some_ people.” Kevin nods slowly. Connor’s grip tightens on his hand. “That being said… I think you’re kind. I think you’re brave. I think you care a lot about people. And I think you’re a better soul mate than I could have ever imagined.”

Warmth floods through Kevin’s entire body. “Can I kiss you?”

Connor grins. “I suppose you can.”

Kevin leans over and presses his lips lightly into Connor’s forehead. He hears Connor chuckle. Then Connor’s hand is on his cheek, guiding him down. 

When their mouths meet, Kevin thinks his heart stops. He doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but Connor does, so he follows his lead and takes in as much as he can. The kiss feels so inherently _right_ that Kevin wants to go back in time and hit himself for thinking of denying himself of it. 

Connor’s eyes are wide and a little wet when they part. “Who’s Steve Blade?” be breathes.

“A butt trumpet. An ass violin. The entire Trans-Posterior Orchestra. Don’t worry about him.”

Connor throws back his head and laughs. The laugh quickly turns into a cough. Kevin offers him some juice, but he waves it away.

“You’re good,” Connor gasps when his coughing fit is over.

“Thanks.” Kevin beams. He checks his watch. “Hey, so… I still have a little time before my shift starts. And I was serious about my laptop. It’s gotta get boring around here.”

“I dunno, I’m having a pretty good time right now…” 

“Fresh.”

“That would be really nice, actually. And I wouldn’t mind a snack…”

Kevin nods. “I’ll be right back!” He kisses Connor on the cheek before he bounds away. He thinks he can hear Connor chuckling as he leaves.

-o0o-

Kevin only gets to make it partway through ‘Phantom’ before he has to go to work. He brings back an array of snacks, explaining that he’ll need to eat something before his shift. He also brings two steaming cups.

“I dunno if you drink coffee, so I just got you a hot chocolate,” he explains.

Connor cocks his head. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Oh, yeah. Too much, probably,” Kevin says lightly. “Couldn’t have gotten through school without it!”

“Ew,” Connor says. Kevin looks mildly offended. “Sorry. I tried it once and hated it.”

“Me, too. But it starts to grow on you after your twelfth cup.” Kevin catches the look on Connor’s face. “Kidding!”

They sit on the bed together as they watch the musical. Eating is a little awkward in Connor’s position, but Kevin is quick to help him. 

Kevin seems to understand that you do _not_ chat while watching ‘Phantom’ for the first time. He’s very good at watching movies for others’ sakes, Connor notices. 

“Remember where I left off; we’ll pick it up there later,” Kevin promises before he leaves for his shift. He gives Connor a quick peck on the lips. He’s grinning like an idiot when he pulls away. “If you need anything at all, get someone to page me.”

“Of course. Thank you for all this,” Connor says.

“It’s nothing,” Kevin assures him. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Go save some lives!”

“Will do!” It takes Kevin a moment to tear his eyes away. Then he’s off, leaving Connor alone with his laptop and the remaining snacks.

Connor updates his Facebook status, mostly hoping that his family would hear of his accident through the grapevine. He doesn’t expect them to come visit him, but he wants his sister to know he’s alive, at least. After a few minutes of hesitation, he also changes his relationship status, keeping the “in a relationship” part, nixing “with Steve Blade.”

He browses the web for a while, getting bits of information about the outside world. It’s a stupid hour of the morning when he pulls up a bootleg of ‘Cats.’ He’s asleep in seconds.

-o0o-

Connor wakes up to giggling outside his door. He blinks and grumbles when the light hits his eyes. 

A man in scrubs walks in. The scrubs are plastered with a repeating pattern of some sci-fi spaceship Connor doesn’t recognize. (Connor is not extremely well-versed in sci-fi spaceships.) The man is chubby, with thick glasses and thick, black hair. He smiles widely at him. 

“Hey, there! I have a visitor for you!” The man’s voice is loud and shrill, but his boisterous excitement makes it endearing.

“Who is it?” Connor asks suspiciously. 

“Me! Also Naba!” The man gestures to the door. A beautiful, dark-skinned woman stands outside, smiling and waving. “We’re Kevin’s friends.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” Connor raises the bed slightly so he’s a little less reclined. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Connor,” the woman says, entering the room. Arnold offers her the chair, then goes to grab another one. “I’m Nabulungi. You can call me Naba, if you’d like.”

“Nice to meet you, Naba,” Connor says. Naba shakes his offered hand with both of hers.

“I’m Arnold!” the nurse says, sitting down in the chair he’d produced. Proudly, he adds, “I’m Naba’s soul mate!”

“Hi, Arnold.” They shake hands as well.

“How are you feeling, Connor? This all looks very painful.” Naba gestures to Connor’s plaster-encased limbs. 

“It is, but they’ve got me on some good painkillers,” Connor says. “As long as I don’t move too much, I feel okay.”

“That’s good,” Naba replies, nodding. 

“We wanted to check up on you. Kevin asked us to, plus we wanted to meet you for ourselves!” Arnold says.

“Did he go home?” Connor asks, a little disappointed that Kevin hadn’t come by before he left.

“No, he’s still working,” Arnold says.

“Really?” Connor gasps. “What time is it?”

Arnold checks his watch. “Uh… Twelve thirty-eight.”

“His shift started at midnight! How long does he work?”

Naba chuckles at him. “I was the same way when the boys first started here. They work so hard!”

“Shifts are eight or twelve hours, depending on where you work in the hospital. ER work is pretty intense, so they usually only go eight hours. But Kevin always works double shifts whenever he can,” Arnold explains. 

“He works for _sixteen hours_?” Connor remembers his conversation with Adrienne, but he hadn’t put together exactly what “always working” actually _meant_.

“They’ve tried to get him to slow down before, but he’d just go off and volunteer at a free clinic or something. Eventually, they decided it’d be better to keep him here, so they can at least keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t pass out in the middle of an injection.”

Connor shakes his head. “He’s crazy,” he mutters.

“Yeah, a little,” Naba agrees. “We have to remind him to sleep.”

“I’ve only known him for, like, a day, and I already know what you’re talking about…” Connor frowns. Is this what he’s in for? Is he going to spend the rest of his life worrying about his soul mate’s sleeping habits? 

Naba intrudes on his thoughts. “You’ll be good for him, we think.”

Arnold nods. “Kevin never does anything halfway. That’s why he, you know, why he’s like that. But maybe he’ll have that attitude about this whole soul mate thing, too.”

Connor thinks about his interactions with Kevin so far. He thinks about how Kevin hadn’t let himself rest until he’d known Connor was safe. He thinks about how Kevin was always making sure Connor has what he needs. He thinks about how Kevin had been so torn up over a time in his past, before he’d even known Connor, just because he’d been taught to think something before he could know any better. 

“I think you’re right,” Connor says with a smile.

Arnold and Naba exchange a glance, giggling to themselves.

“What?”

“Sorry,” says Naba. “You’re both so… smitten.”

Arnold nods furiously. “That’s the word I was trying to think of! _Smitten!_ ”

Connor blushes. “Uh… Thanks?”

“You’re welcome!” Arnold checks his watch. “I should probably be headed back down. I know Logan’s coming in for chemo today; he’ll want me around.” 

Naba nods. “I’ll catch you again before I leave. Have a good shift!” They share a quick kiss.

“Bye, Connor! It was great meeting you!” Arnold waves.

“Bye!” Connor replies. When he’s left, he turns to Naba. “You two look very happy together. May I ask how—?”

“Of course!” Naba smiles dreamily. “It’s a wonderful story. Kevin told us you are ex-Mormon, right?” Connor nods. “Well, so is Arnold. Believe it or not, he and Kevin were just miles away from each other during their missions.”

“Weird,” Connor says.

“Oh, yes! Well, anyway, Arnold and I met on his mission. He was the only one at the mission who took the time to get to know us. By the time his two years were up, he had helped us build wells and improve our school, but he was no longer doing it in the name of the church. He is still religious, though. It’s almost like he’s made up his own rules.”

Connor nods. “So, did you find each other right away?”

“No, actually.” Naba giggles. “Both our marks are usually hidden by clothing. Arnold doesn’t always read very well, and I only knew him as Elder Cunningham. There was about a week where we became friends without knowing we were each other’s soul mates.”

“That must have been nice,” Connor says. “It can be a bit scary, you know? Meeting a stranger and finding out you’re supposed to be together forever.”

“I suppose it would be…” Naba gazes towards the door. “I guess we figure it out when we need to figure it out.”

“So, what do you do?” Connor asks. He wants to stop talking about fate and destiny for a while; it’s starting to make his head hurt.

“Lots of things,” Naba replies. “I work at the Jewel by our apartment and take some classes at Truman, but what I really like is photography.” 

“Can I see some pictures?”

Naba nods, smiling. She takes out her phone. “I’ll show you the photos from my Facebook page.”

Naba passes him the phone. Connor swipes through the album she’d pulled up. The photos are all of various events— weddings, birthdays, fundraisers, and the like. Some are portraits or staged photos, and they look very good. But the candid shots are astounding. Naba seems to have a knack for catching the emotional peak of a moment. The light always hits just right, and the subjects are always perfectly focused.

“These are amazing,” Connor tells her, handing the phone back. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Naba shrugs. “My classes helped me figure out some things, but I guess most of it is about instinct.”

“Well, you have an impeccable instinct.”

“Thank you!” Naba beams. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I work at a Payless, but I have another year of school. Early childhood education and music.” Connor realizes he hasn’t called into work yet. He should probably do that. He doesn’t know where his phone is, but he figures it’s unlikely it survived the crash, anyway.

“That’s nice! Kevin _loves_ kids, you know. He used to work a lot in Pediatrics, but it makes him too sad; it reminds him too much of his siblings.”

Connor processes this bit of information. “He must miss them a lot…”

“He does.” 

The conversation gets lighter after that. Connor decides he likes Naba a lot; he thinks they’ll become very good friends. He gets a lot of Kevin-related information out of her. He learns that Kevin, when he’s at home, sings Disney songs in the shower. He learns that, though Kevin can stomach the bitterness of coffee, he practically gags at the taste of beer. He learns the names of Kevin’s siblings: Jack, Emma, Anna, and Teddy. He learns that Kevin almost punched a guy once because he was making fun of Arnold. 

Too soon, it seems, Naba needs to leave for a late afternoon class. She waves goodbye and disappears out the door.

-o0o-

A few minutes after four, Kevin skids to a halt outside Connor’s room. He steadies himself on the doorframe and bursts inside. 

“How’s your health insurance?” he asks breathlessly.

“Nonexistent?” Connor replies, startled and confused.

“Shit. I was just thinking about it, and, like, I got worried. Cuz, you know, hospitals are really expensive. And I’ve been trying to make sure you don’t get charged with too much unnecessary bullshit, but if I meddle too much I’ll get in huge trouble. But yeah, I was just thinking about that.” 

Connor groans. “I know. I’m kind of screwed.”

“Well, no. Not necessarily. But it’s kind of soon— well, not kind of, more like really, really soon— and it would be weird, not to mention that this isn’t probably how either of us thought this would happen, but it might be the best option…”

“Slow down, Kevin. What are you talking about?”

Kevin goes bright red. “So, uh… I have insurance through the hospital— really good insurance, cuz, you know, it can be kind of hazardous. Anyway. They offer it for, uh… for me and my spouse…?” Kevin bites his lip. 

“Oh…” Connor blushes, too. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t even bring it up except, well, I’d want to help you out either way, financially, but money’s tight with us, and I’m sure it is with you, too, if you’re a student and your parents aren’t helping you or anything. And this was the only other thing I could think of, aside from winning the lottery or randomly inheriting a bunch of money…” Kevin stands at the foot of Connor’s bed, looking almost apologetic.

“No, it’s, um… You’re right. That’d probably be the best option, logically…”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin says. “I know this is weird and sudden. This isn’t happening how you deserve it to happen.”

“C’mere,” Connor murmurs. Kevin sits takes Connor’s offered hand. “Don’t be sorry, okay? Yeah, it’s weird, and it stinks that we have to rush into things like this, but it’s not your fault. We’re just gonna make the best of this situation, okay?”

“Okay,” Kevin says, looking determined. He kneels. “Connor McKinley, will you marry me for insurance purposes?”

Connor laughs. Kevin follows, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I will,” Connor answers.

“Awesome!” Kevin gets up and kisses Connor’s temple. “So, uh, we can get the chaplain in here whenever, and that’ll be that, I guess. We can invite people, if you’d like, but it doesn’t have to be, y’know, a _thing_.” Kevin grins at him sheepishly. “I think, if you can still stand me, we could have a real ceremony once you’re all healed up and we know each other better.”

Connor nods. “Only if you can still stand me, too.”

“Sounds like a plan. May I?” Kevin gestures to the bed.

“Climb on in,” Connor says with a giggle. Kevin does, resting his head on Connor’s shoulder.

“Thanks. My shifts seemed extra long today. This is nice…” Kevin’s stomach growls loudly.

“Have you eaten since last night?” Connor asks sternly.

“A little. I don’t wanna get up.” Kevin burrows deeper into Connor’s side.

“Well, you need to eat.”

“Later,” Kevin mutters.

Connor sighs. “You’re impossible.” He presses the call button. Lucky for them, the nurse who appears is Adrienne.

“Awww!” she squeals at the sight the two of them. 

“Don’t call Adrienne,” Kevin murmurs into Connor’s neck.

“I already did, doofus,” Connor replies affectionately. “Could you grab us some food, please? Apparently between the two of us, we only have one semi-functional leg.”

“Sure thing! Kev, give me your wallet.” Kevin fishes his wallet out of his pocket and chucks it blindly toward Adrienne, who catches it easily. “Don’t stop being cute ‘till I get back!” she calls as she leaves.

“Thanks!” Connor shouts back.

“So I heard you met Arnold and Naba today,” Kevin says. 

“Yeah, I did. They’re great!”

“I’m glad you like them. They’re my best friends. They seemed to like you, too. Naba said you had a good talk.”

“We did, but she probably likes me because I complimented her photos.” Almost without realizing, Connor starts stroking Kevin’s hair. Kevin melts under his touch, sighing happily.

“Maybe, but I’m fairly certain she also likes you for you. She’s a straight-shooter; she’d tell me if she thought you were a dick.”

“My façade is holding, then,” Connor deadpans. This earns him a laugh.

“I don’t think you’re a dick, either. Guess I’ve been duped.”

“I’m a pretty good actor. Rolled my ankle onstage during a play once. The only person who noticed was my director.”

“Really?” Kevin asks, craning his neck up awkwardly to look at him. 

“Yep. There were two other people onstage with me, too. They had no idea I’d been hurt.”

“Wow. Do you do a lot of theatre?”

“I try to do stuff when I can. I was Simba in ‘The Lion King’ last semester.”

“That movie takes a lot of artistic license,” Kevin says, curling back up at Connor’s side.

Connor chuckles. “I’d imagine.”

“That’s really cool, though. I could never do that— sing and dance in front of people. I’d be so nervous…”

“Somehow, I don’t see you as the type to get stage fright…” 

“Really?” Kevin ponders this for a moment. “I guess it’s because you can’t see their faces very well. You can’t check in while you’re up there to make sure you’re doing it right.”

“Huh. That makes sense…”

Kevin’s stomach growls again. “Once, when I was in college, I forgot to eat for almost three days. I had so much work to do that I just forgot.” Kevin laughs. Connor does not.

“Kevin…”

“What? I think it’s a funny story.”

Connor’s arm curls protectively around Kevin. He’s surprised by the gesture; he’s used to being the one offering protection.

“You need to take care of yourself. From what your friends have told me, you’re always working yourself to the bone. That can’t be healthy…”

Kevin does what he always does during these types of conversations: he laughs lightly and says, “You don’t need to worry. I can take care of myself.”

“Can you? Because for someone who’s only known you less than a couple days, I’ve had to tell you to slow down an awful lot.”

“Nurses have long shifts, Connor.”

“Yeah, and you take double and take more hours per week than is probably legal.”

“I’m helping people,” Kevin explains, thinking that would be the end of it.

“What about _you_?” Connor says. “What about helping yourself?”

Kevin pulls away, staring at Connor perplexedly. “I have plenty of food. I have clean drinking water. I have accessible healthcare. I have a steady job. I have a roof over my head. I have amazing friends, and now I have _you._ What more could I ask for?”

Connor frowns at him. “So… what? Are you punishing yourself for having a good life?”

“No. I just… I don’t want to be selfish,” Kevin admits. He looks away from Connor.

“Well, let me tell you, mister: you’re overcorrecting.” Connor tugs at Kevin’s top, beckoning him to lie back down next to him. Kevin obliges. “No one’s going to blame you for taking a break every now and then. Alexander Hamilton didn’t, and look what happened to him.”

“I don’t know history,” Kevin murmurs, letting himself melt back into Connor’s embrace. 

“Me neither, but I know my musicals.”

“There’s a musical about Alexander Hamilton?”

“…Kevin, how long has it been since you left this hospital?”

Kevin nuzzles his jaw. “I leave! I’m just not up on the latest Broadway news.”

“Once you’ve eaten and slept, we’re listening to ‘Hamilton’ all the way through. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” Kevin giggles. He squirms up and kisses Connor on the lips, that same warmth from earlier spreading through his chest. Connor sighs against his lips, eagerly reciprocating.

“Seriously, can you two get any cuter?” Adrienne exclaims from the doorway. Kevin startles, pulling his lips away from Connors’.

“We won’t be cute for much longer if you don’t give us our food,” Connor says.

“Ha! Here you go.” She dumps their meals on the table. 

“Hey, A. Do you know what Rae’s schedule is like today? We don’t wanna bug her if she’s super busy.”

Adrienne gasps overdramatically. “Is Connor dying?”

“Not actively,” Connor replies.

“Morbid. Nice,” Adrienne says. “She actually has some time between patients this evening. We were gonna hang out, but if you need her for something…”

“Could you spare her for, like, fifteen minutes?” he glances at Connor. “That’s okay, right?”

Connor shrugs. “If we’re gonna do it, let’s do it.”

“Do what?” asks Adrienne suspiciously. 

Kevin can see her putting the pieces together, but he tries in vain to get her to drop it. “It’s nothing, really, don’t even worry about it.”

“Kevin Price, you told me you’d invite me to the wedding,” Adrienne pouts. Connor laughs.

“It’s hardly a wedding! We just wanna get Connor on my insurance!”

“I’m coming,” Adrienne says firmly. “One, because you’ll be taking my soul mate away from me for the evening, and two, because you’ll need a witness. And that’s that.”

“Ask Connor,” Kevin grumbles.

“Connor, may I witness your wedding?” Adrienne asks sweetly.

“You may,” Connor giggles.

“Yay!” Kevin’s stomach interrupts her celebration. “You eat that food I so kindly got for you. See you two lovebirds later!”

Adrienne skips off. Kevin groans, attacking the wrapping on a sandwich. Suddenly, he freezes.

“What’s up?” Connor asks.

“She didn’t give me back my wallet…”

-o0o-

The wedding is quick and simple. They don’t even have rings. Kevin stays in Connor’s bed through the whole thing, partly because he’s tired and partly because he needs the reassuring warmth beside him to let him know they’re making the right choice. Adrienne cheers loudly when they’re pronounced. They decide, at least for now, to keep their own names. 

“Well, I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I kill men and eat their skin,” Connor says when Adrienne and Rae have left.

“What? Me too!” Kevin giggles.

“No way! We have so much in common!” Connor laughs along with him. They stay up talking until Kevin starts to doze off, jolting awake when his neck slumps too far down. 

Talking with Kevin is easy. His thoughts travel with Connor’s, and vice versa, like a musical duet. Connor remembers how his and Steve’s talks would stall when one of them made a leap the other couldn’t follow. Kevin, on the other hand, takes everything Connor gives him and responds in kind. 

And it’s not that things don’t still suck; there are still so many issues Connor needs to sort through, and a lot of his future is scarily up in the air, and he has a lot of difficult recovering ahead of him. But for a few hours, Connor feels peaceful, and that might be the best gift Kevin can give him.

-o0o-

All four of them have considered the options, and the only option that really makes sense is for Connor to move in with Kevin, Arnold, and Naba. Connor’s lease is nearly up, anyway, but living alone on the second floor of a building with no elevators just isn’t a viable option for someone who won’t be able to put any weight on his right leg for at least a couple of months. Even if Kevin moved in with him, he’d be alone a lot of the time, which would be difficult, and Kevin’s apartment is closer to the hospital. 

This way just makes more sense.

“I’m gonna take a few days off tomorrow and Tuesday. I can bring your stuff over to our place and help you get situated,” Kevin tells him once they’ve reached this conclusion.

“Who are you and what have you done with Kevin Price?” 

Kevin chuckles. “I deserve that. Seriously, though. I don’t want you to stress about the move. I’ll take care of it.”

“What would I do without you?” Connor asks, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Don’t think about it,” Kevin murmurs against his lips. “I’m here now.”

Connor has been in the hospital for a week, now, and in that time, he’d recognized that he is— at the very least— really, really attracted to Kevin. He means this in every sense of the word, but when they kiss like this, Connor can feel that attraction in shivers up and down his spine. He has to push away a little too soon every time; there is something incredibly unsexy about lying, halfway immobilized, in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but a thin gown, and he’d prefer to wait for a better location to give into his desire.

“You’re wonderful,” Connor tells him, giving him a final little kiss on the nose. He adores the way Kevin’s face scrunches up when he does that.

“You are, too. Good luck today.”

“Thanks, Kev.” Today, Connor will hopefully be exchanging his bulky, gross plaster casts for fancy 3D printed ones. He’d instructed Kevin not to sneak into his meeting with Dr. Murphy, and Kevin had begrudgingly promised to stay away.

They share one more fleeting kiss, and then Kevin is off to his next shift.

-o0o-

Kevin finds Connor’s apartment easily enough. Karen was nice enough to let him borrow her minivan for the move. Connor told him he doesn’t have much to move, since he and Steve bought most of their furniture together, and Connor doesn’t want to see any of it again.

Kevin scowls as he thinks about Steve Blade. He tells himself he doesn’t like the guy because he’d broken Connor’s heart, and that certainly doesn’t help his case, but deep down, Kevin also feels like he’s in competition with Steve. And Kevin is a very competitive person. 

Both Connor and Kevin were under the impression that Steve had moved out after the breakup, so when Kevin opens the door to find two men making out, he’s more than a little surprised. 

Kevin clears his throat, and the couple breaks apart. He gestures with the boxes in his hands. 

“Hi. Sorry. I’m Kevin. Connor’s soul mate. I’m just picking up his stuff.”

One of the men— who has Kevin’s brown hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin, but who also looks nothing like Kevin— nods and rises, holding out a hand. Kevin spots Connor’s name on the back of the other one. It looks wrong.

“Hi, Kevin. I’m Steve. This is my soul mate, also Connor.” Steve chuckles. The noise is like nails on a chalkboard.

Other Connor appears slightly behind Steve, waving. Kevin rejects Steve’s hand. _Did the dipshit not notice I’m holding a bunch of boxes?_ Kevin thinks angrily.

“Where’s _my_ Connor’s stuff? I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I get it.”

Steve claps Kevin on the shoulder. Kevin stiffens. “I’ve got it all boxed up for you, actually. You can put those down. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Kevin sets down the boxes and follows Steve. Steve opens a musty closet and reveals several unmarked boxes. 

“There you have it! Would you like some help getting this stuff down?”

Kevin studies him, eyes narrowed. “I think I’ve got it.”

Steve shakes his head. “It’ll take you a bunch of trips! We can help— can’t we, Connor?”

Other Connor shrugs. “Sure.”

Reluctantly, Kevin accepts the offer. It doesn’t take them long at all to get everything loaded into the van. Other Connor wanders over to the alley by their building and lights up a cigarette. Steve offers Kevin up for a beer, but Kevin declines.

“Suit yourself,” says Steve with an obnoxious grin. “So, how are things going with you and Connor?”

“Excellent. Thank you for asking,” Kevin replies hardly.

“Looks like everything turned out okay, didn’t it?” says Steve.

Kevin crosses his arms, glaring at Steve with as much hatred as he can muster. “You led Connor on for a month and then broke his heart, then you didn’t look after him and let him get in the middle of a three-car collision. But yeah. It’s all okay.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Of course. You’re a drama queen. Perfect match for Connor.”

Kevin considers yelling at him, calling him a smug, dismissive ass, telling him he wouldn’t deserve Connor McKinley if he purified himself in fire for a million years, letting him know that the rest of his pathetic, miserable life will be Hell on Earth because he won’t get to wake up next to Connor like Kevin gets to now.

Instead, Kevin punches Steve Blade right in the face.

-o0o-

Kevin’s hand hurts, but he has to get Karen’s van back by tonight, so he toughs it out and brings all the boxes inside, piling them up in his— and now Connor’s— room. Once he’s done, he checks himself out; he can move his fingers fine, the pain is subsiding, and there are only faint bruises on his knuckles. Nothing looks broken.

Kevin’s jaw has been clenched tightly since he left Steve’s apartment, telling him not to ice his face for longer than thirty minutes at a time. Seeing Connor propped up in bed, his arm and leg now covered in lightweight, bright pink casts, chases the tension from his shoulders. 

“Hey, Con!” he says, setting down the cans of soda he’d bought so he can climb into the bed.

“Hey,” Connor replies, kissing his cheek when Kevin gets settled. He accepts one of the cans. Kevin hisses as he holds the other to his bruised hand. “What happened?” asks Connor immediately.

“I, uh… I punched your ex in the face…”

“Kevin! Oh my God!” Connor covers his mouth with the pink cast. He chokes out a giggle. “That’s terrible! Oh my God!”

Kevin grins sheepishly. “I know. It’s bad. I shouldn’t have done it.”

Connor nods, smiling in spite of himself. “You shouldn’t have. But I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.”

Connor takes Kevin’s bruised hand and holds it up, inspecting it. “Does it hurt? Do you need to… I dunno, get an X-ray or something?”

“It’ll be fine,” Kevin soothes. “It could probably use a kiss, though…”

“You dork,” Connor says affectionately. He presses his lips softly to Kevin’s knuckles. “All better?”

“Yep!” 

“Good… You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in anything but scrubs.” 

Kevin glances down at himself. He’s wearing a thin, faded T-shirt and worn jeans. “It’s not very exciting. Sorry.”

“I think you look just fine,” Connor murmurs, leaning in for a kiss that Kevin happily returns.

-o0o-

Kevin’s room is cozy, but plain. The walls are bare. His nightstand is empty save a small lamp. He has a dresser, but he’s only filled half the drawers. There are a few things hanging in the closet, as well. There’s a pile of blankets in varying sizes, colors, and thicknesses on the end of his bed, which, fortunately, is wide enough for the two of them.

Once they get home from the hospital, Kevin and Connor get to work unpacking the rest of Connor’s things. (Connor had had Kevin bring him something to wear after he got out; he’d missed actual clothing.) Kevin tries to keep Connor from doing anything, but Connor tells him that he can fold his own clothes just fine, and Kevin acquiesces. Kevin puts on a playlist of Disney songs while they work.

“Wow, Kev, you’re a really good singer,” Connor tells him after hearing Kevin belt along to “Go the Distance.”

“Really? You think so?” Kevin blushes.

“Yeah.” Connor grins at him over the shirt he’s folding. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks…” Kevin beams. He opens another box. “I haven’t heard you sing, yet.”

“You will, I’m sure,” Connor says. “Don’t rush it, though. I’d feel weird just sitting here singing for you.”

Kevin gets his wish a few songs later. As it turns out, the songs in his playlist aren’t just from Disney. Connor squeaks excitedly when he hears the opening chords to “You’ll Be Back” from ‘Hamilton.’ He sings along joyfully, imitating Jonathan Groff’s English accent. When Connor looks up at Kevin, he’s got a funny sort of smile on his face.

“What’re you looking at?” Connor asks, tossing a shirt at him. Kevin catches it and tosses it back.

“You,” Kevin replies serenely.

“We still have work to do,” Connor scolds. But Kevin’s gaze warms him delightfully and drags the corners of his lips upward. 

“I can flirt and work at the same time!” Kevin protests. “Watch!” He takes a stack of folded shirts and sets them into a box as he says, “You’re amazing, and also adorable.”

Connor giggles. “Yeah, but maybe _I_ can’t work with you flirting with me.”

“Well, I guess that’s just too bad. Cuz I forgot to mention that you’re really hot.”

It’s Connor’s turn to blush. “You’ll have plenty of time to flirt with me once we’ve finished up. I’m on your insurance, after all.”

They had come up with that soon after they’d gotten married. Though Connor is liking the idea of being married to Kevin more and more each day, they’d both decided that calling their relationship a marriage seems strange at this point. For now, they put it in terms of legal benefits; when they’re ready, they’ll have a real ceremony and be real husbands.

“Well, you’re the cutest tax benefit I’ve ever seen,” Kevin says. Connor snorts.

**-o0o-**

Connor’s casts are waterproof, so he gets to take an actual bath that night. He’ll never again take for granted little luxuries like washing his own body and wearing his own clothes. 

After his bath, he and Kevin have dinner in bed, watching ‘Aladdin’ and cuddling. They finish their food, and then the cuddling turns to kissing, which turns into Connor sucking experimentally just under Kevin’s jaw.

Kevin freezes underneath his touch. Connor pulls away.

“Sorry. Did you not—?”

“We don’t have to— to do anything,” Kevin blurts. “I don’t want you to feel, y’know, _pressured_ …”

Connor smiles, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay. I _want_ to.”

“Oh.” Kevin blushes, looking away. “Okay, then.”

Connor’s brow furrows. “Do _you_ want to?” he asks gently.

“I… I don’t know. I’ve never… I don’t know a lot about this stuff. I guess I’m kinda nervous.”

“Oh, Kev,” Connor coos, cupping Kevin’s jaw and brushing a comforting thumb over his cheek. “You don’t need to be nervous. If you don’t want to do anything tonight, we don’t have to. But I think you’ll be fine.”

Kevin nods. “Could you, um… Could you do what you were just doing, earlier?”

Connor nuzzles Kevin’s neck, giving it a couple of kisses before he sucks a little harder. This time, Kevin tilts his head back, his breath hitching. Connor tries again, slightly farther down, and is rewarded with a small, high whimper. He slides his fingers down Kevin’s chest, then back up. Kevin arches into his touch.

“Can I try?” Kevin asks. 

“God, yes,” Connor breathes. He lies back, and Kevin, to his (not unwelcome) surprise, straddles his hips.

Kevin kisses along Connor’s jaw— just light pecks at first. Then he mimics what Connor had done to him. Connor sighs, his hands back on Kevin’s chest. He tries again, a bit harder, drawing out a low hum.

“See? You’re doing great,” Connor tells him. He catches Kevin’s mouth in another kiss. As they kiss, Connor slips his hand under the hem of Kevin’s shirt. Catching his meaning, Kevin tugs his shirt off.

“Wow,” Connor murmurs. He watches Kevin’s blush color his chest.

“Now you?” Kevin asks. 

Connor nods. “I’ve been lying in bed for a week, though, so don’t expect there to be anything amazing going on.”

Kevin helps Connor take off his shirt. Reverently, he touches the pale planes of Connor’s chest.

“More freckles,” he says, grinning.

“I’m such a ginger. It’s terrible.” 

“I don’t think it’s terrible,” Kevin says. He peppers kisses all over Connor’s chest and stomach. His lips ghost over the waistband of Connor’s pants, and Connor groans. “Could I?” Kevin asks.

Connor nods. He isn’t entirely sure what Kevin plans to do, but as long as it involves Kevin touching him, he doesn’t think he’ll object. 

Kevin unfastens Connor’s belt and takes his pants off, carefully guiding them over his cast. He runs a fingertip over the outline of Connor’s hardening dick, still covered by his underwear.

“ _Kev,_ ” Connor moans. 

Kevin slips the boxer briefs down Connor’s thighs and then they’re off, too. He repeats the motion on Connor’s bare cock, and Connor moans a little louder.

“Touch me, Kev. Please. I need— _oh…_ ”

Kevin’s lips are barely there on the head of Connor’s cock. He presses a curious tongue to the slit, then licks a line up the shaft. Connor cries out, his spine curving. Kevin’s lips are on his head again, sinking down until he has to stop.

“You can take some of it with your hand, if you need to,” Connor instructs. Kevin takes his advice. He starts to move, and Connor has to fight with every muscle in his body not to thrust into Kevin’s mouth. 

“You’re doing so good, Kev,” Connor says between moans. “You feel amazing. You’re so, so good.”

Kevin whimpers around Connor’s cock whenever he’s praised. One of these times, Connor feels him shift, and he realizes Kevin is grinding down against his good (well, better) leg. The realization that Kevin is getting off to his praise is almost too much for Connor to handle.

“I’m close, Kev. Don’t try to take it in your mouth, okay? Use your hand.”

Kevin does as he’s told. His lips are red and slick, his eyes dark. His hand strokes him quickly and firmly. Connor comes, crying out, spilling over Kevin’s hand and his own stomach. Kevin keeps his hand on him, but stills, and through his haze, Connor can hear a high whimper.

A little awkwardly, Kevin falls next to him. “Wow…”

“Did you—?” 

“Yeah,” Kevin answers, sounding a little embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. Your first time can be kind of overwhelming.” Connor kisses his cheek. “You were very good.”

“Thank you. You too.” Kevin gets up, wincing. “Oh, gosh, that feels weird.” 

“Take them off next time,” Connor says.

“Gladly,” Kevin replies. He takes some tissues from the nightstand and cleans them both off. They both change into pajamas. Kevin cues up the next movie, and Connor falls asleep while Kevin plays with his hair.

**-o0o-**

It happens on accident, but Connor doesn’t want to take it back.

It’s been a month, maybe a bit more, since they met. Kevin is heading out to work. Connor pulls him in for a kiss before he leaves.

“Have a good shift, honey. Love you.”

It just kind of slips out, but Connor realizes it’s true. He _does_ love Kevin. So he lets the words hang in midair and waits to see what Kevin will do with them.

“Love you, too,” Kevin replies breezily. He freezes halfway to the door. He turns around. “Did we just—?”

“Yeah.”

Kevin beams. “Well, good. Cuz I do!” He bounds back over to give Connor another kiss.

“Me, too!” Connor says. “Now go! You have work!”

Kevin leaves. Not five minutes later, Connor gets a text from him:

_love u!!!! xxx_

Connor texts him back:

_love u too, u giant dork <3_

 

-o0o-

_**One year later** _

“Kevin, buddy, you need to calm down! The wedding’s gonna start soon, and they kinda need you for it.”

“They’re all _wrong,_ Arn!” Kevin cries, tearing his index cards and scattering them over the floor. “I can’t use any of that crap! It’s all terrible!”

“I’m sure it’s fine, buddy,” Arnold says. He picks up a scrap of index card and reads, “…Like a syringe, you pierced my tough exterior and injected me with love…”

“See? Terrible!” Lacking more cards to tear, Kevin opts to kick at the scraps on the carpet.

“Well, uh… Maybe I can help? What did you think of Connor when you first met?”

“I thought he had multiple open fractures on his right side, several cuts and abrasions, and severe blood loss.”

Arnold shakes his head. “Well, that’s no good.”

“It’s hopeless!” Kevin throws up his hands and falls to the ground facedown. “Call it all off! Connor and I will just be tax benefits forever; it’s fine!”

There’s a knock on the door. Arnold opens it.

“Oh, hey! Thank God you’re here! I think he’s broken.”

Kevin doesn’t look up, but he can tell that it’s Connor’s hand in his hair, stroking soothingly. 

“Kev? What’s the matter?”

“My vows are stupid,” Kevin mutters.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine, sweetheart.”

“Read it, Arnold.”

“You don’t want me to. It’s… It’s bad.”

“See?”

Connor tugs Kevin over and pulls his head into his lap. “Well, that’s okay. Maybe you’ll just have to wing it. You always say such nice things when you don’t have to write them down.”

Kevin sighs, closing his eyes and letting Connor calm him. “You take such good care of me, Con. How did I ever function without you?”

“You didn’t,” Connor chuckles. “You worked until you fell asleep and then you dreamed about work.”

“Sounds about right.” Kevin catches one of Connor’s hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Let’s get up; I wanna be your husband.”

Kevin wriggles into a standing position, and then helps Connor up. He kisses Connor long and sweet, taking both his hands. He grins, looking refreshed and determined.

“Let’s go, my dearest tax benefit.”

**Author's Note:**

> .....y'all


End file.
